Thrush
by Ember Nickel
Summary: The whole galaxy knows about how the Rachel made its way home from Kelbrid space. Cassie and Jake's reunion, though, is a little more personal. And as for how they even defeated The One to begin with, well, it's a long story. (Chocolate Box 2016 gift for redcandle17.)
1. Oriole

Dear redcandle17, I was very excited by your suggested tropes, but I wasn't immediately sure how to combine them into a coherent plot. When I wound up trying to write an actual Cassie/Jake romance, this was the result...but it's not the whole story. The next chapter I guess is as gen or as shippy as you want to read it, and is set chronologically earlier, so think of it as a behind-the-scenes type glimpse. :)

Huge thanks to Nilozot for betaing, any remaining errors are my own.

* * *

You've probably heard about how, after somehow managing to drive off The One, the _Rachel_ wound up zigzagging through Kelbrid space and dropping off countless frail and recovering aliens on whatever planets they came from. It's covered pretty extensively in the second volume of Marco the Animorph's biography, "The Gorilla Speaks II: The Circuitous Way Back To Where We Started." (Critics say Marco started his own "odd/even" rule of quality, although I'm not really sure what they're talking about).

Anyway, just like everyone else in the galaxy, I too heard about the trip secondhand, because I wasn't there. The difference is that unlike the rest of the galaxy, I'd heard about the voyage before it had begun. That didn't mean I had the first idea where exactly they were, or harbored any expectations for their return.

I'd been surprised by how honest some of my answers sounded, in the few interviews I gave, mostly with people I trusted from my book releases. After so many years of having to lie to my family day in and day out, I hadn't expected any sentiment to poke through. But I really was disappointed that for all I knew, my last conversations with Marco and Tobias, and even Ax, could have been over things that were trivial, petty in retrospect. I was proud of Jake for being enough of a leader at any age to make his own decisions and do what he felt needed to be done, and I didn't feel automatically entitled to be brought along just by virtue of the memories we shared. I was secretly hopeful that he appreciated all the work I was doing with aliens here on Earth, but was also bitterly afraid that he had never really cared, and just needed to say something to justify leaving me behind.

Most of all, I missed him, far more than I'd expected. We'd grown apart on Earth, but I suppose I always knew he would answer if I needed him for any reason. Maybe worrying about his safety, even as I tried to keep myself busy as always, made things different. Or maybe the hope that he had found some part of that young, childish Jake once again had reminded me of how things used to be, and I was remembering times that were dead for no reason.

But then suddenly they were back, and I found myself dodging another round of interviews. Fortunately, Santorelli and Jeanne had had a lot of time to work on embellishing their stories, and I listened in, as curious as anyone about these two cadets who'd joined the famous Animorphs on their quest.

I was hoping that Marco would arrange the chance for me to meet them, since Tobias and Menderash spent most of their time helping Ax with his recovery and convincing him that celebratory galas appropriate to the occasion needed to be somewhere a little classier than the local Cinnabon. But it was Jake who called me instead. On the phone, this time, not approaching via morph. "Cassie? Are you there?"

"Oh my...Jake?"

"It's me," he laughed. "I was-if there's sometime we can get together, is that all right?"

"Tomorrow?" I immediately suggested. "I can make it work."

"Tomorrow's perfect."

Even then, I secretly assumed it wouldn't be. Something would come up. Ax would have a complication, the military would want Jake's expertise, Jeanne and him would have been a couple since halfway through the return trip. I couldn't bring myself to morph the familiar osprey to take to the skies, and flew as a Baltimore oriole instead, which I'd acquired a few months before just for the thrill of it. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to be picking up new morphs, and my mood didn't really seem to need the help, but all the same...

A few minutes passed from the time when we were supposed to meet, and still no sign of him, nor any falcon that looked familiar. I started pacing, telling myself I had no reason to be irritated. After being gone for a couple years, what were a few minutes? Within a minute, a wood thrush came wheeling by. ((Cassie?)) he asked quietly.

I nodded. He started morphing, under the cover of the park.

"Sorry," he said, "late start..."

In spite of myself, I smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing. New morph? I like it."

"I can't tell who all would recognize the falcon, I thought just in case-" He broke off. "Hi."

Maybe the new morph helped me after all. Despite everything, my fears I'd lost the other Animorphs forever seemed too well-founded, too grounded in evidence I didn't have. Some morph-capable impostor could acquire a human body, even. But watching him demorph, inspired by the same motives I was for once, felt right. Cautiously, I opened my arms, and he stepped forward for a brief hug.

"You're all right," I whispered, once he pulled away.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm okay. And you? I-"

"I'm great," I said hurriedly. "Really good. Work's been busy, but I like it, most of the time, and there's always something new to think about."

He nodded. "How's Toby?"

"Toby's hoping to visit the Hork-Bajir homeworld soon, actually; there's been a push to see what kind of other trees we can bring back to support the colony here without overly disruptive consequences." I saw him look at me with a confused gaze, and figured I must have been blushing. "There are a couple humans who're going too. I didn't want to, but Ronnie Chambers is really hoping he gets to go."

Jake squinted. "Sorry, who?"

"My ex. I mean, you wouldn't remember, we decided we were better as colleagues," I sighed. "He's still been very involved in the Hork-Bajir side of alien diplomacy."

"It can't be easy. A dozen planets, and I don't think we got fresh bark anywhere." He cracked a smile.

Marco would have had something clever to say; bark versus bite, maybe? But from some of those interviews, it sounded like some of the strange aliens they met probably _could_ bite. I felt almost awestruck, trying to take it all in.

Jake looked at me as if sizing me up. Dozens of morphs, and none of them could detect what kinds of threats we posed to each other. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I'm not waiting for an answer today, this week, any time soon. Someday, though. Can you forgive me?" I must have twitched, because he rushed on. "For asking you to stay here."

I breathed slowly. "Is that really what you need?"

"If we go our separate ways again, maybe that's fine. We did before and it worked out, getting Ax home anyway. But look, the whole way home, I was thinking it was pretty stupid, not having you. We were trying to avoid a direct confrontation with the Kelbrid, at least on their terms. Having to swing past all these different alien planets, with creatures still trying to get back on their feet, hooves, tentacles, whatever...I figure, _hey, there are experts who do this for a living, why not ask a pro_."

"But you _were_ ready for a military-level approach. Even outnumbered."

"I had to be, yeah. Which...I guess was my department." He gave a shrug, half-modest, but drained of pride.

"Once it was mine," I pointed out.

He held my gaze, without pulling away. We let ourselves remember all the hats we'd worn, sliding from destructive warriors to stealth operatives without letting any trace of the strain show outwardly. I was the estreen, but he'd been every bit as talented at knowing which approach each occasion called for. Time kept pushing forward, and all the DNA we'd acquired would continue to swim deep within us. Would the dreams I once took for granted dissipate one by one, or just dissolve into something new?

I stepped closer, and Jake smiled. "Would you believe me," he asked, "if I told you I thought maybe things happened for a reason? Like, you were _meant_ not to come along, so things could, I dunno, work out better in the long run somehow?"

"No," I said, "not really."

"Good," he said. "That does sound kind of dumb, when I put it that way."

"You think this was some kind of Ellimist trick?"

"Not the Ellimist. Just, maybe something else like that. Things that you couldn't have accomplished by coming with us then."

I squinted. "The Kelbrid _did_ contact Earth, while you were on your way back, and I've started communications with a few of their 'diplomats'. You weren't exactly subtle about the return trip. But the negotiators just want to trade, I think, and maybe get a better price than we give the Andalites."

"Huh." A spurt of wind caught a tree branch and started dragging it towards Jake's face. He stepped out of its way, brushing my side, and I laughed.

"I'm not giving them one, right now anyway. But I don't speak for Earth."

"That's not what I meant. But as long as you like it."

"It won't come easy. The challenge is worth it, though." The Kelbrid seemed to understand what it meant to work with merely the representative from one human "country" much better than the Andalites or even the Yeerks had. Maybe they were used to being tribal, partisan to a fault. But it gave me hope to know they were willing to concede even a very territorial kind of common ground.

Jake nodded. "Then I just wanted to let you know, I'm here, and I'm happy for you. Everything I said before-you fought your battles, and you deserve to enjoy what you fought for. Whatever that looks like. If you want me to be a part of that...I'm staying on Earth now, you know where to find me. It wouldn't be because anyone needs me or wants me for their plan, just because I feel like it. Otherwise, take care of yourself."

I squeezed my eyes shut, half-expecting the colors of the park to be more vivid when I reopened them instead of the foggy blurs of the morning. We were still hidden, where we could morph out of sight of passersby. "We can't turn back time, and I don't expect it all to be the same between us." Was he flinching? "But if you think I don't want to be with you and meet Jeanne and Santorelli and everyone, then you need to talk to Ax's doctor, because something fried your brains in Z-Space, _Captain_."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, not you too."

"Not me too?"

"Never mind," he said. "You, too."

"Oh!" I said. "Okay."

I stepped forward to kiss him, once again grateful for the cover of the trees. So many times as a soldier had I been anonymous, using parks to hide and morph in, but never a celebrity, reuniting with the man I loved. Even fighting to keep the world free, I couldn't really imagine being a household name. Kelbrid business was glamorous and classified, but it was still _business_. Taking my place with the Animorphs was stepping back into the spotlight all over again. But with my friends, with _Jake_ , I didn't care.

"And," I said once we'd come up for air, "you have to tell me how you actually defeated the Blade ship to begin with. All Marco ever talks about is finding Ax and starting there."

"It's a long story," Jake said, smiling, "but I will. Maybe you can help us make sense of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The galaxy is a big place, and I still don't claim to understand how everything works. But experience shows I figure more things out when you're here."

I took his hand. "I'm not the most reliable source. I-I thought I'd lost you, before." Had I been expecting myself to be something more than human, even then?

"You don't need to be perfect."

"Do you?"

He gave a brief squeeze. "Maybe not anymore."

My name is Cassie. I have a good job, a long commute, a loving family, and a bunch of difficult co-workers. And an occasionally distant boyfriend whose goodbyes "for now" really do mean "for now," whose guesses at the future are no worse than mine. I have no clear answers; I never have, and nothing is written in stone.

I'm only human. At least, in the ways that matter for today.


	2. Jaguar

My name is Jake.

Even bracing for impact, I wasn't really prepared for a collision. I guess in the heat of battle, nobody really can be. You just try to act as quickly as you can, before everything sinks in. Before you have time to regret.

But I felt the power of the Blade ship's detonation. Saw an afterimage burn in front of my eyes, brighter than Z-space had ever receded before me. There was a tremendous noise, and far beyond the crackling of the enemy's weapons, the rustling of something more distant and huge. Not quite the laughter of the Ellimist, or even the concentrated hatred of Crayak, whose taunting had haunted my nightmares for years. This was impersonal, without emotion or space. Just the slightest feeling that we were being watched—or were making changes as we fought our desperate battle.

I tore myself away from the image of the Blade ship, which had spiraled out of range, taking stock of my crew instead. "Are we all here?"

Marco's face lit up in spite of himself. "Yeah. We're all right."

"What was that?" asked Jeanne. It was a great question. I wished I had an answer.

"The Blade ship fired at close range," explained Menderash. "But we were moving too fast to bear the brunt of it."

"We were moving right _at_ the thing," Marco said. "That takes a lot of luck."

"Can we fire on them from here?" I asked.

Santorelli explained, "It would take a few minutes for either of us to approach at sublight speeds, but we have the same 'they-outgun-us' issues as five minutes ago, I would think. And it would take longer to recharge the power."

I nodded. "Five minutes ago. Right. Tobias, need your eyes."

((Yeah?)) he called.

"Can you—I don't know, get a frame of reference on the stars around us? Make sure we haven't drifted too...far off-course."

((What do you mean 'off-course'? We found them, didn't we?))

"I know," I repeated. "I just—I don't see how they missed from that angle, unless we really reversed course somehow."

((If you say so.))

"Please?" I asked. "And Menderash, charge the engines. Be ready to hit them again, if we have to."

"Of course." Menderash scooted off, looking happy to have something to do. I couldn't blame him; we were so close, and he'd sacrificed so much just to have a chance at getting here.

((Sorry,)) said Tobias. ((I don't think I was paying very good attention to what things looked like before we got, uh, company. But this doesn't look the same _at all_ , I don't have any reference points...))

"I understand," I said. "That's what I'm worried about."

"Maybe they could be draining power from the stars somehow?" Marco wondered. "Like in the movies. I dunno."

Jeanne was starting to fidget. "That would still require a near-instantaneous transfer of energy. If they had the ability to control that kind of power, why wouldn't they destroy us?"

Menderash shivered for a moment. "They don't want to kill us, do they? You heard the threat—to make us 'part of' itself. That's what they're saying they did to Aximili."

"But even if they had the power to, I don't know, cut through Z-Space faster than we can," Marco pointed out, "this location doesn't seem to suit them any better than us. What's their angle here?"

"This whole detour feels like an accident," I said. "Menderash, do you know about _Sario Rips_?"

((Oh, come on, said Tobias. ((Here?))

"Of course," Menderash said. "Given a concentrated detonation of force, a rupture in space-time can result in an immediate—transference—to another time or place. Considering the unknown technological capacity of the Blade Ship, I think it is reasonably likely that their explosion could produce these effects if they were uncontrolled."

Marco's eyes widened. "That almost made sense. Sounds like someone didn't get distracted by cute girls in Andalite physics class."

"Shut up," I said. "Do you know how to find out where or when we are?"

"As far as position goes, I'm no more accurate than the ship's computer."

"Not enough power for that," said Santorelli.

Menderash squinted at one of the monitors. "We need shields up or engines at full capacity if we want to charge it from this distance. And Prince Aximili is a natural time-reckoner, but I don't have any special knack for that. I'm sorry."

"Apologies later," I said, hoping to sound like I felt sure we were going to get out of this. "Has anyone been having any weird—flashbacks? Or—forwards, maybe? Visions of a fight that hasn't happened yet?"

We glanced around the ship in silence. Finally, Jeanne blurted, "No? Should I?"

"Not necessarily. If we've gone further than a day or two in either direction, we wouldn't expect them; if we _have_ , it gives us more—room to work with in getting out of the rip, but we might have to take some risks. Right, Menderash?"

I looked over at him gravely, and he raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You really _have_ been through a lot."

"Yeah, well. There're some things I remember that I'm not even sure Ax knows well enough to explain."

"Sorry," Marco interrupted, "but back to _this_ problem; we're in the same position we were...recently, except with more space between us and them, and no sense of position. Do we want to try and boost weapons now?"

I looked around the room as if the unfamiliar surroundings would give me some inspiration, but we didn't have time to stall. "If we want to vote, let's vote. But my vote is for hitting them again, same way. Like you say, Menderash—if they had the ability to recharge and destroy us, they would have used it already. So if the reaction is going to throw _them_ off balance, I think we might as well pick a strategy and stick with it." There would be second-guessers and regrets; there always were. There wasn't war without second and third and fiftieth thoughts. But we didn't have liberty to consider them in the moment. All we could do was try to keep struggling for one more day, for a galaxy with a little more freedom.

((Works for me,)) said Tobias. ((Can we get the computer to at least scan our position now, though, so we have a baseline just in case something weird happens again?))

Santorelli tapped at the controls. "I'm on it."

"If we breach their hull, what next?" Jeanne asked.

"Let me guess," said Marco, "it's one of those 'one step at a time' deals."

"Hey, if you've got something better, shoot," I said. It came out with more of an edge than I meant.

"It's all right. It's just—good to see you in your element. Even who-knows-where."

Menderash gave a small smile, his reactions still appearing slow in the human body.

"Brace for impact," I said. "Maximum Burn in three, two..."

This time, I felt a few more seconds of acceleration as we zoomed through the void. I tried to look at the others, drawing strength from them, but space battles were still new territory for me, and without morphs, it hardly felt like much of a battle at all.

And then the Blade ship was lighting up again, its weapons, or maybe some kind of defenses firing. We jolted, and again there was a keening noise as the _Rachel_ got its bearings once more in real space.

((You heard it too?)) Tobias asked, and we nodded.

"Not again," I groaned. "One Sario Rip inside another?"

Menderash sighed. "It's theoretically conceivable. I would suspect that their weapons have some incomplete measure of control over the direction—maybe whether we're going forwards or backwards in time? Or within one star system, rather than outside it?"

"All right," Jeanne asked Santorelli, "What do the scans say?"

"Don't need 'em, do we?" asked Marco. "There's _another_ ship out there."

We turned to the narrow pane. Drifting between us and the careening Blade ship, there was a round hub with several shafts protruding in various directions. Menderash swore under his breath. "I don't recognize the specifics, but that's a traditional Kelbrid style."

((Well, that means we're back where we started, isn't it?)) Tobias asked. ((Kelbrid space, not who-knows-where.))

"It means we're still trespassing. And maybe out of our own time, too. They might not know what to make of the Yeerks."

"So they won't recognize the Blade ship either," I pointed out. "Can we hail them?"

Santorelli squinted at his computer. "They're trying to signal us. Call sign _Jaguar_ , Kelbrid ship Ferz-class."

"The Kelbrid have jaguars?" Marco asked.

Jeanne shrugged and gave him a thin smile. "Maybe we're in the future, and they've made contact with Earth cats."

"I was thinking of Earth cars."

What were the odds we'd go through a _Sario Rip_ —no, two—and then an unknown alien shows up who just happens to know about my morph from another voyage through time? A form I couldn't even morph any more? Something was messed up. Maybe this was another nightmare of Crayak's, or I was being toyed with in the wrong decade by some other creature more powerful than I could imagine.

"Open comms," I said, "but let me handle this personally. The rest of you stay out of sight, and if there's any trouble, fire whatever we've got at thisthing. We'll deal with the Blade ship later."

Menderash' expression was stilted, unreadable, but he didn't sound thrilled. "Do you really think it wise?"

((It could be a trap,)) said Tobias. ((Lure us in where they have allies, _then_ set us up for their mind games or whatever they're really here for.))

"Maybe you're right," I admitted. If it was a test of Crayak's, better to not take the risk of wasting real resources on it. "Hold fire, and be ready to ignore it and shoot the Blade ship if need be. But talk to these people first."

Facing the screen alone, I nervously patched in, telling myself that just shortly before—if that meant anything—I'd seen the mutilated face of my friend Ax. No trap could be worse than that.

Instead, I saw the old face of a human woman, who didn't seem to react to meeting another human in the midst of where and whenever we were. In fact, she even seemed to know why we were there. "Is this the Rachel?"

"Yes," I answered warily. "Who are you?"

"As I explained, the _Jaguar_ is a repurposed Kelbrid ship. Some of our crew is Kelbrid but—amenable to the nature of this voyage."

"Okay. What nature?"

"I hope I seek similar ends as you do—a peaceful resolution to conflicts. And the confinement of weapons that would...threaten the galaxy."

"We have some friends on that Blade ship we need to rescue, if they're in any condition to be saved."

She nodded, and for the first time I saw who she reminded me of. Cassie's great-grandmother, who I'd eaten Thanksgiving with once before the war. She'd explained the history of the farm, never knowing we'd add a whole new chapter to it by using the barn as our base of operations for so many meetings. "Say you're able to do so. Are you able to take control of the ship? Deliver them back to their homeworlds?"

"Uh—" I broke off, glancing around the room.

((Menderash, nod if you can fly a Blade ship,)) Tobias silently thoughtspoke. ((Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard. Anyone who survives should know their home planet well enough to navigate back to, yeah?))

"Given enough...time," I trailed off vaguely. If the two jumps had canceled each other out, or close enough to it, then presumably we'd be all right. Otherwise, I wasn't sure.

"Very well. Then I suggest, for the safety of your own craft, you let me negotiate with this—threat, and hopefully subdue it. Should we succeed, of course, you'd be responsible for securing the ship and transporting any survivors."

"You think we're up to the challenge?"

She gave a slight shrug. "I have reason to believe your ship is as suited for the purpose as anything Kelbrid space is likely to provide."

((Jake,)) Tobias called again, ((you heard her say she had Kelbrid crew, right? This has to be some kind of trap, there can't be humans out here.))

It had to be. Or we'd gone far enough forward that humans and Kelbrid were working together anyway, they'd made peace somehow...

I stared at her expression, intense and half-familiar. I didn't want to ask any more questions, didn't want to give away the presence of my crew behind me. But if she knew about our ship already? "Sounds like a plan."

"Oh, come on," said Marco. "We're in the middle of who-knows-when, and you think the first human you see is suddenly trustworthy?"

"Again, I think anyone who could track us here could have already killed us if they wanted us," said Menderash.

Over the computer, the _Jaguar_ 's captain said, "Increase your channel frequency so you can hear us talk to the Blade ship. If anything goes wrong, get yourselves out."

Jeanne faced away from the screen. "We need to be able to attack again. If there really are multiple _Sario Rips_ , staying close to their firepower is the only thing that can get us back."

"It's possible some of them have been having flashbacks, too," said Menderash. "Killing someone on board could collapse the timeline, but I'd just as soon not take the risk."

"Roger," I told the other ship, silently adjusting the keypanel until I could listen in.

But it was not a human voice that spoke at all; instead, an unfamiliar, tinny sound seemed to be hailing the Blade ship in _Galard_.

"Kelbrid," explained Menderash.

"I don't like the sound of that," said Jeanne.

"So what?" I asked. "You heard her—she said they had Kelbrid crew. Maybe we're in the future, somehow?" Or, I told myself, one of those bodies could have been a morph...

"Kelbrid, you claim?" thundered the intimidating specter that called itself The One. "I am the authority here in Kelbrid space, and I know where my loyalists tread. You do not come at my will."

A few moments after the _Jaguar_ 's representative spoke, the computer relayed translated text. _Very well. But do you know what class of ship this is, exactly?_

"Containing knickknacks from your cooperative ventures? Very touching. I will, of course, absorb them all."

 _It's a Kelbrid-class Time ship. It contains a weapon that I think you're hungry for. At heart, you're some kind of—energy, aren't you? You can detect the power source._

"That's immaterial, in both senses. Once I've incorporated you, I'll take the weapon for myself."

 _I don't think so. We Kelbrid don't trust strangers, you see, and this ship's automatic trajectory is set for the center of a star if nobody is alive to override manually. Come alone, and we won't harm you. Try anything funny, and you'll never lay your hands on the weapon._

There was a long silence. "Weapons charging?" I asked.

Marco smiled. "On it."

For a moment, I felt a burst of pain in my head, and then it vanished. I glanced up at the screen to see that the computer was automatically downloading a brief video file, sent from the _Jaguar_ , and by the time it had completed, the _Jaguar_ had disappeared, as if it had jumped into Z-Space—or been ripped through time again.

"What happened?" I yelled. "Can we follow it?"

Menderash looked downcast. "There's no way to track it."

"We can fire or attack on your word, however," Santorelli offered.

Jeanne nodded at the file. "Do we want to look at that first?"

((Is there any way it could be trying to get secure access to our computers?)) Tobias asked.

"After the other ship jumped away?" I asked. "I'd like to think not, but let's leave the shields up and be ready to fire on the Blade ship just in case. Computer, open file."

The computer opened it, and it was a simple video file of the woman who'd been talking with us. "I'm transferring this under the expectations that The One—the energy source underlying it, anyway, not the biological life-forms—has tried to seize this ship. The plan is to destroy both it and the Time Matrix." Remembering our side trips into medieval France, and then to the Revolutionary War, the gaps in my memory, I gasped. Behind me, I heard Marco curse.

"You'll be pleased to know," the tape went on, "that the effect of the rips has canceled out to put you about three months from after you met the Blade ship. The _Jaguar_ , however, is traveling from about sixty years _after_ that. By our—my time, the Time Matrix is getting a little bit of attention, and I think the best thing to do is to hide it somewhere where no civilization can get its hands on them. Human, Kelbrid, Andalite—whoever. Because it was common knowledge that the _Rachel_ and her crew returned around this time, quarantining The One in the process—" I exhaled, hearing the others' shocked breathing around me, "I used the Time Matrix to explore different possible futures and considered this the highest-probability chance to make sure neither of them cause trouble. I can't promise I'll return safely, but I can't count it out, either, and at my age, I'm up for a challenge either way. I think it's in your best interests if I don't try and give you too much information about the future, beyond this. Good luck, though!"

She gave a faint smile, then the screen fizzled out.

"Sixty years?" Marco echoed.

"Yeah," I said. "Is it really the weirdest thing that's happened today?"

((One thing at a time,)) Tobias said. ((Can we approach the ship?))

Menderash stared at the pane. "I believe so. It seems like it's just drifting. I would suggest a slow dock."

"Okay," I said. "Let's—not get our hopes up. Battle morphs, just in case we need to board and there's trouble."

Those of us who could had occasionally practiced morphing, to keep in shape during the long flight. Once all of us, bar Menderash, had taken shape, it was a much tighter fit than normal. Though it had been a long time since I had had to push back the tiger's instincts, it wasn't hard; my human mind was too busy remembering past morphs and trying not to get overwhelmed by thoughts of futures that could be, to get distracted by the tiger.

((Computer,)) I said, ((Detonate lowest-grade explosives to force their airlock.)) Menderash grabbed a spare Dracon beam.

Their hull gave way. The interior walls buckled, but fortunately, the doors were secure. Marco's gorilla fist punched the button to open ours, and we awkwardly clambered through the gap between the ships.

((Careful,)) said Jeanne. ((If we puncture this one too, they'll slowly lose oxygen.))

((The—tape just said we get back for sure, right?)) said Marco. ((So we know it works out?))

((I think this is why we're not supposed to know about time travel,)) said Tobias. ((This gets messy.))

((Is there any way we can hack the door?)) Santorelli asked. ((Just force it open?))

But as we were standing around, the door swung open of its own accord. Several eight-limbed aliens were standing around; they didn't seem to have any distinct facial features, so it was hard to tell whether they were facing us, but a couple seemed to have their extremities curled around strange lasers aimed in our general direction.

"Kelbrid," Menderash hissed, then raised his hands in what I could only hope was a universal gesture of truce and began talking at them in quick _Galard_.

They replied in the same tinny voice we'd heard on the communications. A few more tense interchanges followed, and Menderash nodded at me. "Explain things quickly."

((We—uh—mean you no harm, if you're not under the sway of The One. If you've just been...set free, we'd be glad to help you get home. You and the others. There's a—friend of ours here, an Andalite, we'd like to help if we can. Can we come in? The airlock is damaged.))

Which they probably wouldn't buy as "a natural side effect of being occupied by an evil hivemind," but seemed more immediately helpful. Menderash kept talking, faster and more irritated, but a few minutes later, they were waving us off and closing the door behind us. I breathed again, and tried to let the tiger's instincts take hold. I could still be a predator, in control.

The Kelbrid, still clutching their lasers, led us down a series of hallways. Instead of the standard-issue Yeerk weaponry, though, they were lined with various aliens I didn't recognize. I couldn't have told you what healthy, upright postures would have looked like for them, but I had the feeling I wasn't seeing those. They were staggering, blinking, ambling slowly.

((Do you think they could still be under The One's power?)) I asked our group privately.

((Maybe,)) Marco said. ((But you've seen how some Controllers just lost any will after a few years. Even when they were free, there was an adjustment.))

((Let's hope,)) said Tobias.

We rounded a corner, and I took a step back. There was an Andalite, the area below his nose mutilated and scarred. But he still seemed to be walking under his own power, holding his tailblade with pride and scanning the Blade ship with his stalk eyes.

He would have known my morph and Marco's, of course. Tobias didn't always choose Hork-Bajir in a fight, but Santorelli's rhinoceros and Jeanne's coyote were strangers. And Menderash, who had given up his Andalite body to have a chance to return to this nightmare, sprinted forward. "Prince Aximili! It's me, Menderash!"

Ax whirled around, stalk eyes taking us in while his main eyes looked over at Menderash. ((What?))

"We'll explain later—are you okay?"

((I think I will be. Only—))

"Yes?"

((Don't call me Prince.))

* * *

The _Sario Rip_ within _Sario Rip_ premise comes from, of all places, Megamorphs 1!


End file.
